Those unruly eyebrows of his lifted and he glanced at the psychic paper. "That it does." So... that ruled out at least one theory. He tucked the paper away in his pocket, regarding her warily. He had a sinking feeling this was about to go entirely pear-shaped, whether she was the Rose he'd known or not. Signs were pointing to the former. She'd looked at the screwdriver like she recognized it.

There were distant shouts beyond the door and he tensed, all too aware that his time was limited. Uncomfortable feeling, that. "So. Obviously I don't belong here. What do you intend to do with that? Arrest me?" He gave a thin, humorless smile. "I'd really rather you didn't."